Changes
by Ramzes
Summary: Sailors do not become aviators, even if their beast is an Imperial. Everyone knows that. Reference: Lieutenant John Granby.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The mere fact that this story is here and not in the bookstores is enough to let you know that I don't own anything. If I could, I would have taken Lily – Iskierka is my absolute favourite, but she's quite a handful. Lily is a proper dragon, and a clever one at that.**

Changes

John Granby entered the dining room, still feeling quite sleepy. However, he felt better than he had in days, the wound he had received two months ago fully skinned over. He poured himself a cup of coffee, absently wondering what would happen to him now and where he would be going next. He knew for sure that his position with Laetificat had not remained vacant, so he was currently unassigned. It was a damned pity, for he had loved being a lieutenant of a Regal Copper – they were among the most valued dragons in Britain and it had been a serious promotion. Besides, Laetificat was a fine dragon, good-natured and easy-going, although lethal in battle. I _wish I could have a dragon like her_, Granby thought wistfully.

The coffee made him come to his senses and now he noticed the excitement that was quite literally making the room vibrate. The senior officers' meals were never quiet ones, but this morning, everyone was even noisier than usual, talking at the same time, discussing a marine battle, Imperials and stiff-necked naval officers.

_Wait – Imperials? _

"What's going on?" Granby asked, and Martin started talking, very exultantly, about something that was too good to be true. "Wait! Start all over again, will you?"

Martin, a great deal younger than Granby, took a deep breath and blurted out, "We've got an Imperial!"

"We've got a _what_?" Granby knew that he had heard correctly the first time, but it seemed so impossible. Imperials were something like a legend among all Western aviators. One could hear of a legend and even dream of it, but no one could _have_ a legend. Especially such jealously guarded one – Chinese would never let such a beast leave the royal palaces, let alone the country.

"An Imperial! A navy ship won the egg in a battle against the bloody Frogs and it turned out to be an Imperial, can you imagine it?"

"No," Granby answered honestly, but anyway, Martin's excitement was contagious. "Are you serious?"

"Entirely. It's all the boys have been talking about for the last two hours. Langford and Volly were here. They've seen him with their eyes. They say he's entirely black."

"Entirely black?" Dragons were not supposed to be that colour, but then, with an Imperial, who could tell? Granby started to come to his senses. "Who harnessed him?"

"The captain of the ship."

"A sailor?" Granby was appalled. What on earth could a _sailor_ know about a dragon, let alone an Imperial? They were all so stiff-necked, all pompousness and lordliness. They could not move one leg before the other without asking a bloody permission from their superiors who were just like them, only worse. And such a fellow had put the harness to an _Imperial? Does he even realize what a treasure this dragon is_? Granby asked himself and had to answer with a sad and angry _No_. The ruddy sailor would probably consider the rare creature a mere beast, barely worth more than a dog. An Imperial. A legend. _We've only heard of them without even dreaming of having one – it seemed so impossible that we never gave it a thought. And now we _had_ one and _lost_ it to the inadequate treatment of a bloody _seaman_? One of our own seamen? Nit even a French one! That's rich. It can't be happening!_ "Wait!" The answer suddenly came to him and he felt stupid for worrying so much without reason. "They will surely give him a proper captain, one of our own. I mean, only a man brought up to the life can be trusted to make a full use of an Imperial. Where did it hatch?"

Martin was cheerfully making his way through a huge pile of eggs and bacon. "In the north Atlantic," he said, "and yes, they've already tried to give him a new captain, one of Laetificat's crew, as far as I remember."

It could only be Dayes – he had certainly earned his right to promotion and was considered a likely candidate for the first available dragon. Granby was so happy for his friend that he almost missed the implication in Martin's words. "What do you mean, they _tried_?" he asked sharply a few moments later. "What happened?"

"Temeraire – that's the dragon's name, - Temeraire refused to accept the guy. He insisted on his first handler and that was the end of it."

_Yes, it certainly was_, Granby thought. Dayes had just lost his right to promotion – and to a sailor, of all people! These guys were like weeds – they turned up where you least expected them. It was not enough that they thought themselves above everyone else – now, they had to lay their hands to a dragon. And an Imperial! Dayes would suffer the consequences for years, and the other aviators would have to put up with a seaman right in their midst!

"When are they coming?" Granby asked. There was no question that they would come: the Loch Lagen covert was the best place for still untrained dragons or handlers. And now it seems we're going to have both, he thought.

"They are on their way," Martin answered past his cup of coffee.

Granby suddenly lost his appetite to the last bits.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**So, that was the first chapter. Is it worth continuing? Let me know – I mean, review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Look at the previous one.**

_I can't believe that this short piece __actually received any reviews. I am very happy, though. Thank you!_

Chapter 2

_A few weeks later…_

The naval captain did his best to go far beyond Granby's worst expectations. The young lieutenant thought that he knew all about pompousness and peacockery, or at least he had thought he did, before he met Captain William Laurence.

Ever since he first saw the sailor, in his trendy, pedantically neat coat and shining shawl, he knew that it won't be easy. Where did the man think he was going – attending a parade or what? Did he really intend to keep his previous habits even in his new circumstances? Or maybe he held the illusion that his new comrades in-arms would conform themselves with his style, rather then the other way around? If this was the case, he would find himself awakened quite roughly and Granby would see to that. _To think that Dayes lost his chance because of a fellow like him!_ Granby was as offensive as he could be without uttering a single insulting word and the sailor seemed to have gotten the message, for he snapped at him in a way that was simply unacceptable for the Corps. But then, what did Laurence know about the life in the Corps? He was a bloody naval captain, not a dragon one. He hadn't been able even to give his dragon a suitable name! Temeraire, for God's sake! Who has ever heard of a dragon with a name like this? It was a _ship's_ name, not a _dragon's_ one, and by choosing it, Captain Laurence had shown clearly that he was a sailor and not an aviator. As if anyone need more reminders about it! Granby felt dark pleasure each time Laurence gave him a dark stare, obviously unsatisfied with his exaggerated respectful behavior, but not finding any obvious reason to complain.

Would he try to set his ways into their everyday life? Granby was not sure. He detested the stunned expression that crossed Laurence's face, when he saw the easy way the aviators addressed not only each other, but the servants, as well. Would he try and turn Tolly into one of those poor creatures in London society or aboard the ships, who needed to be everywhere, but stay invisible for the sake of their masters? _Not if I have some say in it! _

Granby was both pleased and horrified to realize that Laurence's dragon confirmed all the rumours about Imperials: he was a quick flyer, he learned new turns and dives as if he had born with that knowledge, he learned signals more easily than their most optimistic expectations, and his intellectual curiosity was insatiable. It was a damned waste to put such a fine creature under the command of someone who would befriend _Jeremy Rankin_, of all people. Well, Granby should have expected it: they both thought themselves superior to all other aviators, with their polished manners and wooden conversations, too good to be wasting their precious time in the centre of Scotland, in the middle of a bunch of what they obviously thought boors, bound to some beasts that they had never wanted, in the first place. It was only a matter of time, before Laurence followed the example of Rankin and start treating Temeraire in the same disgraceful way that the damned Rankin treated Levitas. And Granby resented him for that. It would be more generous of him to step aside and save both his dragon and himself the uneasiness that would follow, thus letting the Imperial find a more worthy, real companion, but that would be too much to ask of the sailor: he clearly thought that no one could manage things better than him, least of all an aviator. Granby could only sympathize for the pain that Temeraire would feel, when his captain started neglecting him.

Surprisingly, it hadn't happened yet. Granby was now serving with Temeraire during the training cycle and the dragon gave no signs of distress. The sailor hadn't got tired of him – at least, not yet. He still insisted that the harness should be removed given half a chance and even took Temeraire to bathe in the lake. He spent as much time as possible with him and even read to him, and Temeraire, in turn, seemed to grow more attached to him with every passing day. Maybe the sailor had finally come to realize what an extraordinarily dragon he had? Grudgingly, Granby had to admit that _that_ had never been the problem: Laurence had always treated Temeraire surprisingly gently, for a stranger to their ways. Maybe he could grow to be a proper aviator, who knew? Yes, he was still as stiff-necked as he had been when he had first come to them, but now Granby was a little mollified, because of Temeraire and because Laurence was a better captain than Granby had initially supposed; even for a pompous fellow, he was fair to his crew and no one had any real complains of him. And it wasn't really his fault that he was so formal: he had been brought up this way. At least he had stopped the progress of his friendship with Rankin; recently, Granby had never seen the two of them sitting next to each other, or playing chess in the evening, or even talking to each other. Instead, he seemed more inclined to spend time in Berkley's company, which was a far better choice; Granby respected Berkley and although the thickset man was by no means the most talkative of the aviators, he knew how to make his opinion clear. It was obvious that Berkley did not mind Laurence and that should count for something, for he was the one who spend every day with him during practices. Besides, the sailor seemed ready to learn, exhausting himself to no end. Granby remembered only too well how hard the training in climbing had been, and he could only imagine how much harder it should be for a grown-up man. Still, Laurence did not give up. How long his determination would last was an entirely different matter –

It was just another day of training, blue and clear, and tiring, when Temeraire suddenly looked aside and called, "That's Volly over there, coming towards us", and James and Volly landed in the training courtyard with the news that Victoriatus had been wounded.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

**Well? What do you think?**


End file.
